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_Lady H._ Sir, you shall find [_To_ HANDY, _jun._] I have power enough to make you repent this behaviour, severely repent it--Susan!
[_Exit followed by_ DAME.
_Handy, jun._ Bravo! pa.s.sion becomes her; she does that vastly well.
_Sir Abel._ Yes, practice makes perfect.
_Enter_ SUSAN.
_Susan._ Did your ladys.h.i.+p call?--Heavens! Mr. Handy!
_Handy, jun._ Hus.h.!.+ my angel! be composed! that letter will explain.
[_Giving a letter, noticed by_ ASHFIELD.] Lady Handy wishes to see you.
_Susan._ Oh, Robert!
_Handy, jun._ At present, my love, no more.
[_Exit_ Susan, _followed by_ ASHFIELD.
_Sir Abel._ What were you saying, sir, to that young woman?
_Handy, jun._ Nothing particular, sir. Where is Lady Handy going?
_Sir Abel._ To dress.
_Handy, jun._ I suppose she has found out the use of money.
_Sir Abel._ Yes; I'll do her the justice to say she encourages trade.--Why, do you know, Bob, my best coal pit won't find her in white muslins--round her neck hangs an hundred acres at least; my n.o.blest oaks have made wigs for her; my fat oxen have dwindled into Dutch pugs, and white mice; my India bonds are trans.m.u.ted into shawls and otto of roses; and a magnificent mansion has shrunk into a diamond snuff-box.
_Enter_ COUNTRYMAN.
_Coun._ Gentlemen, the folks be all got together, and the ploughs be ready--and----
_Sir Abel._ We are coming. [_Exit_ SERVANT.
_Handy, jun._ Ploughs?
_Sir Abel._ Yes, Bob, we are going to have a grand agricultural meeting.
_Handy, jun._ Indeed!
_Sir Abel._ If I could but find a man able to manage my new-invented _curricle_ plough, none of them would have a chance.
_Handy, jun._ My dear sir, if there be any thing on earth I can do, it is that.
_Sir Abel._ What!
_Handy._ I rather fancy I can plough better than any man in England.
_Sir Abel._ You don't say so! What a clever fellow he is! I say, Bob, if you would--
_Handy, jun._ No! I can't condescend.
_Sir Abel._ Condescend! why not?--much more creditable, let me tell you, than gallopping a maggot for a thousand, or eating a live cat, or any other fas.h.i.+onable achievement.
_Handy, jun._ So it is--Egad! I will--I'll carry off the prize of industry.
_Sir Abel._ But should you lose, Bob.
_Handy, jun._ I lose! that's vastly well!
_Sir Abel._ True, with my curricle plough you could hardly fail.
_Handy, jun._ With my superior skill, Dad--Then, I say, how the newspapers will teem with the account.
_Sir Abel._ Yes.
_Handy, jun._ That universal genius, Handy, junior, with a plough----
_Sir Abel._ Stop--invented by that ingenious machinist, Handy, senior.
_Handy, jun._ Gained the prize against the first husbandmen in Hamps.h.i.+re--Let our Bond-street b.u.t.terflies emulate the example of Handy, junior.--
_Sir Abel._ And let old city grubs cultivate the field of science, like Handy, senior--Ecod! I am so happy!
_Lady H._ [_Without._] Sir Abel!
_Sir Abel._ Ah! there comes a damper.
_Handy, jun._ Courage! you have many resources of happiness.
_Sir Abel._ Have I? I should be very glad to know them.
_Handy, jun._ In the first place you possess an excellent temper.
_Sir Abel._ So much the worse; for if I had a bad one, I should be the better able to conquer hers.
_Handy, jun._ You enjoy good health--
_Sir Abel._ So much the worse; for if I were ill, she wouldn't come near me.
_Handy, jun._ Then you are rich--
_Sir Abel._ So much the worse; for had I been poor, she would not have married me. But I, say, Bob, if you gain the prize, I'll have a patent for my plough.
_Lady H._ [_Without._] Sir Abel! I say--
_Handy, jun._ Father, could not you get a patent for stopping that sort of noise?
_Sir Abel._ If I could, what a sale it would have!--No, Bob, a patent has been obtained for the only thing that will silence her--
